The Fateful Five
by Ava Barros
Summary: Clary breathes a sigh of relief that life is calming down. She has her mother back and happy, a new "father", her perfect boyfriend, and her best friend is recovering his memories. What more could she ask for? When Maryse and Robert told Izzy, Alex, Jace, and Clary that they'd be gaining five more shadowhunters, they were all happy, excited even. Especially since one of them was a


**Hi! I'm not expecting this to get a lot of reads. But if you do read this please leave some feedback :) thank you! I'll try to update as soon as I can. Ideas are more than welcome!!**

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One

Thud. Cecilia watches as another one of her personal trainers crumple to the floor. She stands up straight again, "Am I done now? I have places I'd rather be and frankly, this is a waste of my time."

Orlando watching from the corner begins to clap, "Great job Cecilia, I'm impressed as I find myself quite often watching your talents."

She inclines her head slightly, "That wasn't much of an answer and your well aware of it."

Orlando raises one of his eyebrows in the slight question that always irritates her. "But I did, and your well aware of it."

She snorts in distaste, "Of course you would think that," she turns around to hide the amusement threatening to break out in her face, "I'll be in my room. I suspect you'll leave me to it."

She walks off not waiting for his answer. Turning down the hall, past the study she's recognized since she was a child, and the equipment room she sees her room. Sudden relief floods through her as she opens her door and lightly closes it with her toe while walking towards her closet.

Stripping out of the sweaty clothes Orlando makes her wear when she trains. She grabs a blue skirt and a cashmere sweater and heads to the bathroom attached to her room. Turning on the hot water, she sets her clothes on the basin and climbs into the shower. Relaxing under the hot water, she rubs the tension out of her shoulders. She finds herself sighing under the pressure of the hot water unknotting her back.

Leaning up against the opposite end of the nozzle, the spray hits her back and allows her to think. After a couple minutes she grabs a bar of soap and randomly rubs it over her arms and stomach. Absently making circles, her mind wanders to moving to the New York Institute.

She's never been to anywhere other than the Ashfeather country home and the Moscow Institute. To keep from crying out, she balls her fists and hits the wall. A sudden flashback comes to her mind and she grabs the soap again to rub her legs, desperately hoping to scrub away the memories, and the blood they come with.

She sighs and realizes its no use when she instead scrubs off her own skin. She squeezes her apple and cinnamon shampoo into her palm and lathers it into her hair. After about a minute of deep shampooing she rinses it out and grabs her conditioner. She puts some into her palm and lightly smoothes it into her hair, adding some more to her roots.

She goes through her normal routine, then turns off the shower. She grabs a towel from the rack to the right of the shower curtain. She steps onto the plushy rug next to shower and wipes off all the water then wraps the towel around her body. Bending over, she puts the towel over her her head and twists it. Standing upright it rest against the nape of her neck and back. She sighs and walks back into her room to find underwear and a bra, taking her clothes with her and clicking off the light to the bathroom.

She throws her clothes onto her bed and walks over to the vanity table, picking off her bra from over the side. She walks to the dresser and and grabs a random pair of underwear. She starts to lower the towel..and someone clears their throat behind her.

She screams, dropping the bra and underwear, and turns around grabbing a throwing dagger off the vanity table. A young man stands next to her window, leaning his muscled but thin frame against the wall next to the window. His black hair, obviously cut by himself she observes, hangs a little over his eyes. He's easily taller than the shorter blonde, but he seems to slouch, unaware of his presence. He wears a simple blue sweater and darker jeans.

His eyes flicker over to hers, a startling electric blue that you would never believe is natural, meet hers. High cheekbones, but not as striking as a normal Shadowhunters' usually are, she notices. She immediately recognizes him, Alec Lightwood.

Cecilia puts on her cold face and sets the dagger back on the vanity table and tilts her head up, "Do you need something?"

His eyes look over me then he blushes a little, "Do you mind getting dressed and speaking down in the parlor?"

She shakes her head, still suspicious as to why Alexander Lightwood is in her bedroom, "Of course," she picks up her bra and underwear then looks back at him under her lashes, "would you mind turning away?"

He angles his body away from her, clearly not looking. She drops the towel and puts her underwear on, then her bra. She walks back to the bed and picks up the sweater, she pulls it over her head while watching him. Why's he in here?

Silently dressing herself, she watches him. After she's done she blow dries her hair, she braids it, letting some hair come loose around her face. When she's finished she slips on her slippers and flicks behind his ear. She turns and walks to the door, not looking behind her to see if he turned around or even cared to follow her. She grabs her throwing dagger and spins it between her fingers as she walks out the door.

She looks over her shoulder to see if he's following her. Turning back around, satisfied, she trots down the staircase and into the entrance hall. She walks past the music room to the right of the entry way door, and immediately hears yelling. She sighs, and walks into the parlor.

She hears the rustle of fabric and smells pine. She sidesteps the figure rushing at her, and trips the other. A whistle of air cools her back and she jumps, and flips over the shoulder of the person behind her.

The person turns around and she sees Orlando. She lightly smiles, thinking to herself, this might be a little fun. He broadens his stance and rushes her, she bends her knees a little and blocks his first hit, barely having enough time to slide underneath his arm.

While sliding, she throws her dagger and pins his shirt against the wall. She sees a little dribble of blood run down his hip, and stain a bit of the shirt. He looks confused and she rushed him, taking the knife out of the wall, she judo flips him and pins him to the ground. Holding the knife over his neck, she sits on his chest with one leg holding his right leg in place, and the other pinning his left arm. Her left hand holding the knife against his throat, and her right holding his right arm, wrist down.

She smiles, "I win again," she rises off of him and brushes her clothes off twirling the dagger between her fingers. Not noticing the people almost laughing behind her, she leans over his face and sticks out her tongue, "Your getting worse and worse every day. Why do you even try anymore?"

He smiles and pinches her nose, "I'm not getting worse every day, your the one getting better every day," he stands up and walks out of the parlor, stealing her dagger from her as he walks. When he reaches the hallway he turns around, "Oh, and miss? Before I forget-"

"Don't say anything, it'd leave out the surprise," a voice says right behind me. I freeze up and turn around. A taller man with gold hair and golden eyes looks down on me with a smirk on his face. He looked like a lion, the mess of gold hair, the way he holds himself. She glares, an overly confident arrogance floats around him. She snorts and elbows him the the stomach.

His eyes widen a little and she hears laughing, she steps away and looks for one of her personal maids. She sees Briatney, and gestures her over, "Can you get me my phone and headphones please?"

Briatney curtsies and nods, "Of course miss."

She walks away and out of the parlor. Cecilia turns around and looks past the arrogant lion, she sees Alexander Lightwood, a gorgeous darker haired taller girl, and a shorter red head.

She squints her eyes and turns away. "What do you want?"

Someone clears their throat and she hears a shakily confident voice say, "I'm sorry about Jace, he's always this..."

"Magnificent?"

Cecilia snorts, "Try arrogant," she looks over her shoulder and sees the taller dark haired girl laugh.

Cecilia realizes that the golden lion is Jace Herondale, the taller darker haired girl is Isabelle Lightwood, and the red head is Clary Fairchild...from the New York Institute. She turns around and crosses her arms.

Clary smiles, stands up and makes her way to the barely taller blonde. "I'm Clary, your Cecilia?"

Cecilia nods, and Clary holds her hand out, "It's nice to meet you."

Cecilia looks at her and shakes her hand, "Likewise."

Isabelle stands up off the side of the couch she was leaning on. Cecilia notices Clary's fingers twitched every time she'd look at her. Isabelle walked over to the blonde and smiles a dazzling smile, "I heard your going to come home with us."

Cecilia looks her over, tall, beautiful, and most likely spoiled. That was her first impression of Isabelle Lightwood. She cocks an eyebrow and sets a hand on her hip, "Yeah, and?"

Her smile falters, "You sure are cold aren't you?"

She thinks of what Drake used to say.

"You sure are cold, aren't you kid?"

Cecilia used to laugh and respond, "Like an ice queen."

She's snapped back to the present by Isabelle laughing, "Exactly like an ice queen."

She must have said that aloud. Briatney taps her shoulder lightly, "Ma'am?"

She nods, "It's okay Briatney," she takes her phone from the maid and plugs the headphones into them, "thank you."

Briatney glares a little at Isabelle before leaving. Jace leans on Clary and asks, "What's her problem?"

Cecilia looks at the golden lion and shrugs, "She's always had a problem with people calling me that."

Isabelle looks at her quizzically, "So, you've always been called an ice queen?"

She nods at her, "As long as I can remember, it's been my nickname. Of course, Briatney would never say that so, she's always hated other people saying it also."

Clary's fingers itched for a pencil. Cecilia was the kind of beautiful you'd never find again. An ageless, priceless beauty, something that could never be replicated. Like an old painting you know you'd never see again, one that captures your attention with just one glance. The beautifully wavy blonde hair just slightly escaping the braid, ice blue eyes with an invisible softness behind them, a heart shaped face with full lips any girl would be envious of. She reminds Clary of a queen, the way she holds herself, as if she never doubts she's superior but she doesn't remind you of it. She holds a certain sweetness behind the way she looks at you, as if she genuinely cares about you. When she first heard about Cecilia Ashfeather, she didn't know what to think.

Maryse said, "She's a prominent family in the Clave. Her family has had dealings with the Accords, and been in the Clave and law ever since their first acension."

Jace asked, "So, they're not warriors?"

Robert spoke up, "They're among the best well-trained warriors in fact. They happen to be smart, and skilled. They're a well known family among Shadowhunters, very strong and distinguished."

Maryse sighed and sat down, "Cecilia lost her siblings when she was very young," the older woman looked to her husband, "she was 8, wasn't she?"

Robert nodded, "She lost them when they were living in the Moscow Institute. In the middle of the night, the wards were broken a warlock I believe it was. The warlock led demons into the Institute. They gathered all her siblings up, her parents were in Idris for the night."

"So, they killed them?" Izzy asked.

Maryse looked out the window, "More than that. They used maimed her siblings, she was the middle child of 5. Her younger twin sisters, Alice and Ally. Her older brother, Drake. And her eldest sister, Anita. They were all angels, Cecilia especially. We knew them, saw them when they came to Idris to catch up with the Penhallows. You would've never expected them to die like they did..."

Robert picks up talking, "The story goes; demons had snuck in during the middle of the night, with the help of a warlock, so none of the children heard them. They were all woken up when they heard Alice and Ally screaming and crying. Cecilia was the closest to their room, she ran into their room and saw Ally being slowly pulled apart and eaten alive. Drake was close behind her, and Anita also. Drake grabbed a seraph blade from the twins' dresser, and attacked the demons. Cecilia and Anita close behind him. Cecilia managed to kill two, before being thrown into the wall. Drake was still in the middle of them all, pushing Alice to Anita and fighting off the demons, Ally already dead. One caught him in the shoulder and he went down. They started to pull off some of his skin and eat it. Cecilia watching cried out, yelling at Anita and Alice to go call Idris or some of their own contacts. Anita left and Cecilia grabbed another seraph blade. She killed three before she got to him, killing the other four, she pulled Drake out of the room. They both stumbled out of the room and down the hall. They heard Alice screaming in their parents room. They went into their parents room and saw Anita with an arm missing, fighting off the remaining in that room. Alice ran to Cecilia and was screaming to help Anita. Drake grabbed twin swords off of their parents mantle and went to help Anita. Cecilia ran out of the room, holding Alice by one hand and a seraph blade in the other. They went into their parents study and called the Paris Institute where the Verlacs were. She told them about everything that was happening, and they responded they'd get through to Idris. She took Alice and hid her in the cabinet with a dagger, then rushed off to help Drake. He came out of the room, demons right behind him. He yelled at her about something, but she couldn't hear him. Something scratched down the side of her neck, shoulder and back. Down to her hips. She screamed but ended up coughing up blood. Drake threw a seraph blade at the demon, and fought off the rest. Picking her up, he ran into the study, shutting and locking the door behind them. She passed out from the pain, but when she woke up, she was covered in blood, and saw Alice in pieces across the room. Drake was laying on top of her, as if to protect her. Whispering to her, telling her it would be okay. She said later that he looked on the brink of death itself, she didn't realize it until later that the he had demon poison from the scratch on his shoulder. But he was whispering to her it would be okay, she reported later she remembered the snow outside the window. It was an intense snow storm and you would think that you were surrounded by just white, she commented it was peaceful and felt almost angelic. When the Shadowhunters showed up a in the morning, she was the only one left. Drake had died just moments before, the demon poison stopping his heart."

Everyone is silent, and Clary looks down in horror. What kind of person must she be then? Jace spoke up first, "She must hate Shadowhunters."

Clary looks up at him, "Why would you think that?"

He looks off, into blank space, "Because they took forever to arrive, she must see it as they were the reason she doesn't have any other siblings."

Clary looked down at her feet, thinking that he was right. She must hate Shadowhunters, more than anything. The poor girl.

"After that, she went to live with her uncle Orlando. Her parents are always in their city home working with the Clave, they don't want to see their daughter because they think it's unfair only one survived, and it brings up painful memories for them," Mayrse explains.

Alec snorted, unlikely for him. Clary's eyes widen and she looks over at him, "Painful memories for them? She must despise them also."

Clary looks at Cecilia, all those painful memories, of course she's cold. She smiles, "I don't think your an ice queen. I think you're just misunderstood."

Jace quirks an eyebrow at her, a silent question hanging in the air. Cecilia tucks a part of her wispy blonde hair behind her ear, probably unaware of the motion, "Thank you," she looks at Clary with her ice blue eyes, appreciation in her gaze, "not many people would say so."

She turns around and gestures for them to follow her, "I'm hungry, I'm going to eat something. I hope you don't mind speaking in the kitchen," and with that she walks down the hall.

Clary slips her hand into Jace's and pulls him after Cecilia. Maybe more can be learned from this ice cold angel. Maybe she's more than meets the eye.


End file.
